


A bit like soft turbulence

by aevium



Category: Gintama
Genre: (maybe?) - Freeform, Angst, Friendship, Gen, Humor, M/M, Romance, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 09:15:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4601307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aevium/pseuds/aevium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They know what it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A bit like soft turbulence

They shared a childhood together. Safe to say it started then.

Bizarre by all accounts yet the steadiest of them, Katsura was the most composed and unflappable of his peers. A strange but sound exterior, he was a scrambled mind but his overall focus remained streamlined. Gintoki was always a part of that narrow scope – somehow. One of the few thoughts he could keep together in his mind that didn't up and scatter like most. He possessed the capacity to discern what this meant early on, far sooner than many are able. He had the prudence to internalize it quietly, and the foresight to recognize that it would be a lifelong battle for him.

Gintoki was turbulent like water could be, and also life-giving, refreshing, like a cool drink under the sweltering sun. He could be hard to predict with a current which forced a swift race unto others. But he wasn't transparent. Murkier; hard to see under. The one nobody could ever read once the pages finally began to turn. His attraction to Katsura was one of those fickle, singular things, one which sprouted uncomfortably early. One which he chose to ignore and fought to overthrow like the Amanto years later at Edo's doorstep.

Factually a distraction when that war does indeed arrive. A distraction which becomes their bane in the end. Through near-loss comes the threat of swelled emotions brimming and spilling overside.

They enter the war into a stalemate. Gintoki with an undeniable yet undesirable attraction; and Katsura with a love he isn't sure he'll ever know how to approach or unburden himself from.

Katsura is indecipherable when it comes to love, a trait he uses to keep himself afloat in front of Gintoki and his other comrades. His cluttered mind may have a nasty habit of vocally cleansing itself, but he filters what matters especially well. However, he doesn't hold back out of a fear of word getting out – no, Katsura actually doesn't mind if Gintoki knows. The reason he keeps these feelings far far away from his mouth is because, quite frankly, he has no idea what to do with them. He has spent nearly a decade trying to comb through every aspect of them, all angles accounted for, and still comes up clean with nothing. He has no idea how to act on them, nor is he entirely sure he wants to.

But he knows the love is there; the different kind, the hard kind. And he only spends about a night a week reaching with shaking hands to tear the hair from his skull from sheer frustration.

And as capricious as Gintoki can be, he is simple and solid. His purpose in life comes with full clarity; has always come that way since he was a snotty brat drifting about with that nonchalant air on him. Knows what he needs, what he wants, knows what his duties to others are. Knows what he likes, who he likes and who he is despite anything. That's what makes this Katsura Thing one hell of a grind for him.

He knows what it is.

But acting on it isn't his duty; it isn't code; it isn't what he was put on this blood-soaked soil to do. It isn't supposed to be a part of him and it doesn't deserve to be.

And so he squishes it down until it isn't anymore.

It's gone by the time Katsura, many years later, finally grasps his approach one day. They sit by the river, bloodstained from the sunset's crimson reflection, the war far behind them now:

"Gintoki..." he calls softly, grasping lightly at Shiroyasha's cold hand, dead if not for the small, desperate twitch it gives. "I'm too late for this, aren't I?"

Gintoki doesn't laugh or pretend he doesn't understand like Katsura expects. They both sit here now on the same page. The hand is gone. And Katsura know what it means.

Pulling back into himself, Katsura laughs as he says it despite how much he's aching: "Strange how something that never was can feel so nostalgic." If nothing else, he's a warrior who knows how to accept pain with grace.

Gintoki smirks and places an arm around his friend, holding him in tight and giving his shoulder a solid shake. Katsura tenses, shocked.

"Idiot," Gintoki drawls in that usual discerning tone of his. "Nostalgia can only be felt for something that existed. Zura, your brain so cluttered up with useless shit you can't even remember basic definitions anymore? Ahh, Wiggy? Or maybe the hair's using up all that space, hm?"

Yes, it's gone for the Shiroyasha. But for the Gintoki of today, maybe the embers left behind from the passion he once felt can still be salvaged and rekindled.

For all his power of foresight, Katsura can safely say once again Gintoki has managed to confound him with an outlook he hasn't thought possible. Now his mind's taking him to a different nostalgia, back to the battleground, where he was scolded and convinced to stand with the order to toss out a beautiful end in favour of a beautiful life.

He smiles.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what this is. Hope you rolled with it like I did.


End file.
